Page 47 of Last Comes Fate

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We rode backto the house in silence while Sofia chattered about her day, talking to her daddy, a.k.a. her Favorite Person in the World, while I stared moodily out the windows, ignoring Xavier’s concerned glances. I could tell he knew something was wrong but seemed to recognize I wasn’t interested in discussing it in front of Sofia.

It wasn’t until Sofia had had her snack and settled herself in front of the TV that he cornered me in the front foyer, where I was sorting mail.

“All right,” he said. “Care to loop me in?”

I gave him a look, and he immediately pulled me outside to the front stoop, where we could talk out of Sofia’s earshot.

“What is it?” he demanded. “What happened? Was Adam bothering you again? Did he do something—”

“Adam did nothing,” I said quietly. “I got fired today.”

Xavier’s brow crinkled. “They sacked you?”

“Yes.”

“But, why?”

I sighed. “Because of all the press. The paparazzi have been harassing students, and they had to let me go.”

Because of you, I almost added. For whatever reason, Adam’s comments about everything Xavier had cost me kept running through my mind.

“And on top of everything else,” I added. “Pete’s moving out this weekend, which means in addition to losing my job, I’m losing my other means of income.”

My God, when was it going to stop? All the loss. All the heartache.

When was I going to be able to take care of myself?

“Ces,” Xavier said. “I’m so sorry. But you’re not without help, you know.”

“I have child support from you, yes, which we still need to iron out with a mediator.”

I rubbed my forehead. It was important, but just one more thing I had to pay for with my low funds. Not to mention the idea of mapping out money with Xavier was just depressing.

“I’m only taking what’s necessary, though,” I said. “I don’t have a claim to your money, Xavi, nor do I want it, despite what the papers might say. I don’t need to be a wealthy woman, and Sofia doesn’t need to be an heiress.”

For some reason, the idea of him throwing cash at the situation hurt more than everything else. Sure, accepting it might solve these stressors, but it would also just underline how transactional our relationship had become.

On my insistence, yes. But it still hurt.

“I’m not just talking about that,” he said. “You’ve got me too.”

“I don’thaveyou,” I said with a bit of a snap. “You live across the freaking ocean.”

“I’m here now, aren’t I?”

“For another weekend. For your kids. Certainly not for me.”

“Says who?”

Yes, he had said he still loved me. Yes, he said he wanted us to be together. He’d offered a townhouse in the Village. He’d offered me a life.

And I’d said no to all of it.

Because I already knew that sometimes what Xavier Parker offered and what actually came to be were two different things entirely. He couldn’t save me from my problems. And I needed to stop letting him.

Suddenly unable to breathe properly, I turned away and began flipping through the mail in my hands for want of something todo. Something to manage. Something I might be able to control.

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